


In Practice

by resqueln



Series: Misremembered [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:55:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2280912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resqueln/pseuds/resqueln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Misremembered'.  Lorne deals with the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: reference to homophobia and homophobic attitudes.
> 
> Won't make much sense without reading 'Misremembered'. Thanks to Popkin for looking this over for me! 
> 
> As always, constructive criticism gratefully received.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. The Daedalus had left for Earth three days prior and was not due to return for three weeks. Sending someone home through the wormhole took more than a loose excuse about personality clashes on a transfer paper – questions that Evan was keen to avoid. All in all, he couldn’t see any way round the Harrison situation that didn’t involve waiting it out and hoping the Lieutenant kept his goddamn mouth shut. For three weeks. 

Shit. He was going to have to tell Sheppard.

Sheppard and Ronon are the last booking for the practice room most nights, so Evan finds a reason to head down there. 

He times it perfectly, Ronon already on his way out the door, grunting a greeting at Lorne as he brushes past. The guy hasn’t even broken a sweat, Lorne notices enviously.

Sheppard’s finishing towelling his face as Evan walks in. Unlike Ronon he has perspiration on his brow and darkening his shirt.

“Major,” Sheppard says in greeting as he stows the towel in his gym bag. 

The Colonel’s in a rare good mood, wearing the relaxed smile of someone who’s just hit the zone with their workout. Evan knows that smile, has worn it himself after a good hour or two in the gym, and now he’s about to ruin the guy’s evening. Sonofabitch.

“Sir, can I have a word?” 

“Sure. Go ahead,” Sheppard says easily and Evan hesitates, over aware of the door behind him that anyone could step through in a moment.

“It might be better to discuss this in private,” he says and Sheppard arches an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he draws the word out.

A muffled _click_ sounds from the door – the lock engaging. The Colonel straightens up. “What’s the problem, Lorne?”

“It’s to do with one of the new recruits, sir. Lieutenant Harrison.”

Sheppard starts zipping up his bag, looking thoughtful.

“Harrison, yeah I know him. Came in on the Daedalus’ last run. What about him?”

“Well frankly, Colonel, I don’t think he’s going to work out too well here in Atlantis.”

Sheppard cocks his head to the side, clearly picking up that there’s something Evan’s not saying.

“And why’s that?” he asks.

“The kid’s got an attitude problem, sir,” Evan says with feeling. He draws breath to continue and then stalls out. 

“Alright,” Sheppard says with an air of resignation, sitting down on the bench, gym bag at his feet. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Time to bite the bullet.

“This morning he reported an incident to me. Something he thought he witnessed last night - out on the South pier.”

It’s only because he’s been working with the other man for so long that he picks up on the sudden tension in Sheppard’s shoulders. 

“I see,” Sheppard says after a moment, breaking eye contact. 

It’s more tantamount admission than anything else Evan has steadily ignored to date, and _goddammit_. He’s been carefully not-knowing about this for a year and damn Harrison and his petty prejudices.

“And he came to you with this?”

“Yes, sir,” he confirms, and Sheppard nods, licking his lips apprehensively. He clasps his hands between his knees, head hanging briefly and then he looks back up at Lorne. 

“Well then, it’s in your hands, Major.”

“I took the liberty of dealing with it already, Colonel.”

“Oh?” Sheppard asks carefully. 

“Just need you to sign off on Harrison’s transfer papers,” Lorne says and Sheppard stares at him, openly surprised, until Evan shifts uncomfortably. “Like I said, the kid’s got an attitude problem,” he adds, smiling a little to lighten the words.

But the Colonel frowns. “Lorne, you know, you could get into trouble – “ he starts.

“I’m not that guy, sir,” Evan interrupts firmly, wanting to save the both of them from that conversation.

Sheppard huffs out a breath. “Okay,” he says, glancing at Lorne and then away. “Okay. I guess not,” he says, almost to himself, sounding bewildered and a little pleased.

“I’ll have the papers in your inbox by tomorrow morning.”

Sheppard nods, still looking a little wide-eyed. “Alright, Major.” 

It’s his cue to leave, and Evan’s turning for the door when Sheppard says, “Lorne… thanks.”

Evan dips his head in acknowledgement, and then pauses. He knows this will be the last time they ever talk about this, unless the rules change; this is his last chance and there’s one question that’s been burning at the back of his mind.

“Colonel, I have to ask,” he says in a rush and the Colonel’s face shutters once more. “It’s just – McKay, sir?” He tries to pitch it right, to put in just enough levity, just enough arch-disbelief.

For a heartbeat it hangs out there, awkward as hell, then Sheppard smirks, shrugging - a _what can you do?_ gesture.

“It’s Pegasus, Major,” he says and ain’t that the truth.

This galaxy and its curveballs.

“Amen to that,” Lorne says and makes good his escape.

*

Of course that’s not the end of it. To be on the safe side, Lorne shifts the teams around, putting Harrison in with Hernandez and Fring – old timers who were in Pegasus during the Genii siege, way back in the first year of the expedition. Dr Schulz, the fourth member of AR-4, is an unknown quantity, having only been in Pegasus six months. He’s a Canadian civilian though, so Evan isn’t too worried.

The move around of teams causes some confusion, but the Lanteans are professional and confine their bemusement to a few raised eyebrows. Harrison is still sending him resentful looks whenever they cross paths, and Lorne can’t tell whether the Lieutenant’s been running his mouth in the locker room or not. No one approaches him though, and there’s no atmosphere brewing, so Evan feels safe in assuming that Harrison has kept his mouth shut. So far.

As arrival day for the Daedalus ticks closer, he almost convinces himself that everything is going to go smoothly. Almost.


End file.
